NYPD Puzzle (12 page)

“So why kill her?”

“Why indeed. It’s gotta come back to the break-in, but I can’t figure out how. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless it has something to do with the murder in New York.”

“How could it?”

“I have no idea.”

“Did you suggest this theory to Sergeant Crowley?”

“He suggested it to me.”

Cora’s eyes blazed. “Oh, did he, now?”

Chapter

20

Sergeant Crowley settled
back in his desk chair, cocked his head. “I don’t see what you’re so upset about.”

“Oh, really?” Cora said. “You ring up the police chief in my town and, based on no information whatsoever, suggest I might be involved in his murder.”

“That’s not exactly what I said.”

“No, I believe the direct quote was ‘Is that crazy lady involved in yours, too?’”

“Oh, that.”

“Oh, that? Did you really say ‘Oh, that’?”

“It’s not like I said you were the perpetrator.”

“Well, allow me to commend you on your admirable restraint. How’d you like to be hauled into the police chief’s office and asked to explain your nonexistent connection to two murders?”

“Is that what happened?”

“Actually, I wasn’t hauled in, I went of my own accord. Because I wanted to find out if the police had a lead on the murder. I didn’t expect it to be me.”

“What’s your point?”

“You suggested it.”

“Because it’s there. You can’t fault me for saying something that’s true. You’re like a defense attorney gets all huffy when I call his client armed just ’cause the creep’s carrying a gun.”

“But he’s fine with you calling him a creep?”

“Did you just come in here to bawl me out?”

“Well, it is fun,” Cora said, “but I was hoping you would have something to contribute.”

“With regard to your crime? I don’t know anything about it.”

“And yet you accuse me of it to the chief.”

“I thought you were done griping about that.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Well, could you get over it? I happen to have work to do.”

“Fine,” Cora said. “Forget the Connecticut crime. Let’s talk NYPD. How you coming with the murder case here?”

“The department frowns on discussing ongoing investigations with murder suspects.”

“Right. I’m apt to take something you say out of context, and my clever attorney will use it to beat the rap. And if you think that is a possibility even remotely worth considering, then I despair of you ever solving this crime.”

“I’m not too hopeful myself,” Crowley said.

Cora stared at him. “What?”

“Evidence is not piling up for me. Usually, you dig into a guy’s background, you learn a lot. That is not the case with the late Charles Kessington.”

“Oh?”

“The decedent is one of the least interesting people who ever lived. No profession, no skills, and no job. The only thing he had was money, and the only thing he did to get it was have parents who died young. He never married, didn’t have a girlfriend, or any close friends at all. He had no hobbies or outside interests that might have thrown him among people. Apparently, his wildest outings were going to the movies or the theater alone. He went to NYU, dropped out when his parents died. Apparently they were the only thing keeping him there.”

“How much money did he have?”

“Millions. I don’t know how many millions, but I understand it’s less than a billion. On the other hand, when you say ‘less than a billion,’ you’re talking about an awful lot of money.”

“And that’s not a motive right there. Who inherits, for Christ’s sake?”

“He has no heirs. No close relations. No valued friends. His money goes to charity.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. So unless I wanna pin this crime on the American Cancer Society, I’m out of luck.”

“He left it all to them?”

“Yes, he did. In a will drawn up by the same lawyer who drew up his parents’ wills, who, as you can probably guess, both died of cancer. Now,” Crowley said, “the question is, why would a man like that hire the services of an attractive young attorney from out of town?”

Cora shrugged. “You got me.”

“Exactly.”

She wrinkled up her nose. “Huh?”

“There
are
no other suspects. All I’ve got is you.”

“Oh, come on. Haven’t you cleared me by now. When it turned out my gun didn’t fire the fatal bullet.”

“Funny thing about that.”

“You find that funny? What, anything in my favor is just laughable?”

“I mean funny you should mention it. Turns out the ballistics report was inconclusive.”

Cora’s heart sank. “What?”

“The fatal bullet was badly damaged. Hit bone or something. Bounced around in there. Made a real mess. Anyway, ballistics can’t match it up with a bullet fired from your gun. On the other hand, ballistics can’t find conclusive proof it
wasn’t
fired from your gun.”

“You gotta be kidding.”

“Hey, these things happen. I’m sure that hotshot attorney of yours will have a fun time cross-examining the expert.”

“I’m going to trial?”

“I certainly hope not. But no one’s dismissing the charges either.”

“You didn’t feel this important enough to mention?”

“I think someone’s informing your attorney. Has she been trying to get in touch with you?”

“I don’t have a cell phone.”

“Well, in that case, I’m glad you came in. I was going to call you anyway.”

“Why? So you can haul me into court and arraign me, now I can’t prove my innocence?”

“No, nothing like that. I’ve got something I think will interest you.”

Crowley pulled open his desk drawer, took out a plastic evidence bag with an envelope in it. “This arrived in the mail this morning.” He slid it across the desk. “As you can see, it’s addressed to me personally here at the station.”

“I assume there was a letter in it?”

“You assume wrong. The only thing in it was this.” Crowley pulled out another evidence bag, placed it next to the first.

Cora felt a sense of foreboding. A knot tightened in her stomach. She reached out for the evidence bag, took a look.

It was a crossword puzzle. It had clearly been in the envelope. The creases of the folds were evident. It had been unfolded, but it had not been solved.

“I figure it was meant for you,” Crowley said.

“Did it say it was meant for me?”

“Like I said, there was nothing else in the envelope.”

“Then you’re making a wild assumption. There’s no reason to believe it has anything to do with me at all.”

“Except the other one did.”

“We’re not even sure of that.”

“It yielded the license plate number of the car that was following you,” Crowley pointed out.

“Which is bizarre, but not conclusive.”

“Well, maybe this one is. Solve it and let’s see.”

“You didn’t solve it?”

“No.”

“You solved the other one.”

“Someone solved it for me.”

“Why didn’t they solve this one?” Cora said.

“I waited for you.”

“Weren’t you curious?”

“Maybe I wanted to see your face as the answer was revealed.”

“Study me for signs of guilt?”

“It’s a thought,” Crowley said.

“It’s a stupid thought.”

“Maybe,” Crowley said. “But this is a case where I’m looking for someone who makes up crossword puzzles. You’re the Puzzle Lady. You make a living making up crossword puzzles. Maybe you make up a set of puzzles that yield a phony license plate number. Maybe before the puzzles are solved, you tell me a car with that license plate number is following you. Then the puzzles are solved, and low and behold, it yields that exact number. Proof positive the killer is following you. Which means, of course, you’re not the killer. That’s why you wouldn’t solve the puzzle for me and insisted I get someone else to solve it. So you’d have time to ‘discover’ you were being followed.”

“That is
so
devious and convoluted,” Cora said.

“My point exactly. But that’s not going to happen this time. This time I want you solving the crossword puzzle right here, in my presence. If you created this puzzle, I think I’ll be able to tell. You won’t be able to solve it the way you normally would, because you’ll know all the answers in advance.”

Crowley reached in his desk drawer. “So. Here’s a copy. Here’s a pencil. Prove me wrong.”

“I don’t think so,” Cora said. She stood up.

Crowley stopped her with a gesture. “Not this time. Now that your weapon hasn’t cleared, you can either be the cooperating witness to whom I’m extending every courtesy, or you can call your lawyer and we’ll take you down and arraign you for murder, and if Blondie’s as good as she’s cracked up to be, maybe she gets you bail. But maybe not. And this whole spirit of cooperation is off the table.”

Crowley shrugged. “You have no options here. You can sit down and solve the puzzle, or you can tell it to the judge.”

Cora sat back down. Heaved a huge sigh. “Aw, hell.”

She cocked her head. “Buy me lunch?”

Chapter

21

“You’re a total
fraud?”

“Whoa, that’s a little harsh,” Cora said. At least that’s what she intended to say. Her mouth was full of cheeseburger.

Crowley waved his cheeseburger in the air. Grease splattered on his shirt. He took no notice. “You’re the Puzzle Lady and you can’t do puzzles?”

Cora swallowed the bite, said, “You make it sound like a crime.”

“Actually, fraud
is
a crime. Don’t you sell breakfast cereal to children?”

“I don’t claim it will help them solve puzzles.”

“Well, that will be something for the lawyers to sort out. After the parents file suit against the cereal company, and the company turns around and countersues you for defrauding
them.
”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not going to tell them.”

“What makes you think I won’t?”

“I told you that in confidence.”

“You can’t confess to a felony and tell me it’s in confidence.”

“You were talking about a civil suit. Suddenly it’s a felony.”

“I’m not on the bunko squad. I’m with homicide.”

“Exactly. It’s none of your business.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What’s legally binding? What you meant, or what you said?”

“Legally binding? We’re just talking here.”

“Exactly,” Cora said. “We’re not taking something someone said and quoting it out of context and threatening them with legal action.”

“What’s out of context? You said you were a fraud. I said defrauding people is illegal. What am I missing?”

“You’re missing the big picture because you’re off on a tangent. About a collateral matter that is purely coincidental.”

“Does your lawyer know you’re a fraud?”

“Why?”

“In her case I’m just curious. I wasn’t thinking of charging her with complicity.”

Cora looked at him sharply.

He smiled, nibbled a French fry.

“Damn,” Cora said. “I can’t tell when you’re kidding. I’m usually good at that.” She picked up a fry. “Becky knows I can’t do crossword puzzles. She doesn’t know I can’t construct them.”

“How is that?” Crowley said.

“She knows me as the Puzzle Lady. It came up that I couldn’t solve a puzzle. I had to admit that it was very embarrassing for me, but that was the case.”

“She still thinks you make ’em up?”

“That’s right.”

“I’m surprised. That doesn’t sound logical to me.”

“I told her some constructors can’t solve.”

“And she bought it?”

“Apparently some can’t. There’s a rival constructor in town. I told him the same thing and occasionally asked for his help.”

“Hmm,” Crowley said. “He got the hots for you?”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Well, if he’s got the hots for you, he could be just pretending to believe you.”

“Harvey Beerbaum? He’s a prissy old fussbudget. Sometimes I think he’s gay.”

“So he doesn’t have the hots for you?”

“Actually, he does.”

“See?”

“Anyway, that’s the story. You gonna smear me with it, end my career?”